Page 106 of Blue Moon

“Fuck, it’s pissing down out there, but I brought Maccy D’s for everyone. It might need reheating.”

Ryder’s stomach turned at the thought of eating. “No, thanks.”

“Suit yourself. Any more news? I need to charge my phone.”

“Nothing useful.”

“Well, look on the bright side: they haven’t found a body.”

Emmy dropped into a seat at the six-person conference table and opened her laptop. Cheeseburger in one hand, she began scrolling through Blackwood’s file on Luna, which included everything from the original executive protection contract to the notes from Mark Antony to the events of today.

“Anything more from our illustrious stalker?” she asked.

“I don’t know. He was sending Luna dinner every night, but nobody’s been at her apartment for the past few days to check.”

“He has to be the number-one suspect, unless she just took a wander. When did you last speak to her?”

“Late yesterday evening, Vegas time.”

“What was her state of mind?”

“Fine. We only spoke for a few minutes. She’d been watching dog training videos on YouTube, and Rocky learned to roll over.”

“Nobody’s seen the dog either, that’s what I don’t get.” Emmy studied the screen again. “Pale says there’s a blind spot in the vestibule. If the guard by the elevators was looking the other way, Luna could have headed down the next hallway to suites 1207, 1208, and 1209.”

“But why would she do that?”

“Who knows? It’s possible someone took her there, and they could have slipped out while everyone was looking for Luna in her suite.”

“Fuck.”

“It’s just a theory at the moment, and Pale’s getting access to those rooms. I want to see the security video. Do you know what the hold-up is with that?”

“I chased Derek Monroe. He said they were prioritising reviewing the tapes themselves over sending them to us.”

“Because they’re so great at running an investigation. Chase them again.”

Ryder reached for his phone, which was linked to the jet’s comms system, but before he could dial, it rang. Mack was calling.

“Tell me you have something,” he said, putting the phone on speaker so Emmy and Ana could listen in.

“Not exactly. At least, I don’t think so. I realise you’re tied up with Luna’s disappearance right now, but the autopsy results for Julius Whitlow came through. You want me to email them?”

“Any surprises? Small-calibre pistol, right?”

“Wrong. Snakebite.”

“What?”

“The two holes in his chest? They were caused by fangs, not bullets. Cause of death was cardiac arrest. His blood was full of clots.”

“Can a snakebite kill that fast?”

“I’m being told it would take at least half an hour,” Mack said.

“He didn’t try to call for help?”

“It’s possible he did. The cops found him face down in his kitchen with his cell phone on the counter six feet away. As best they can ascertain, he got bitten, figured he’d dial 911, then tripped over and hit his head on the edge of the marble.”

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